


The Audio Advent of Miss Marilyn De Mar

by Lt_Itzalova



Category: Original Work
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M, Farting, Idols, M/M, Scat, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 05:56:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20077270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lt_Itzalova/pseuds/Lt_Itzalova
Summary: A tanking software company makes a last-ditch effort to save their failing business and exploiting a certain trend of pop stars the only way they know how might just be their best bet.





	The Audio Advent of Miss Marilyn De Mar

An old CRT monitor and the rest of its computing setup sat in the otherwise unlit room, the screen’s glow illuminating dust motes in the old supply room. A shaft of light appeared, blocked by two figures as they entered the room. 

“God damn it, Piper, I will look, but this is the last time, you hear me?” a man, tall as he was tired chugged a colorful can of energy drink with the arm not being used to pull him along. “That’s fine, you’re gonna really like this one, Dex.” a much more stout woman scolded back, tugging her co-worker to the dusty terminal. “Look, I only got forty five minutes for lunch and if we don’t find some answer to Seitnap and their weird girl-boy superstar gimmick the very CEO of Hachima Corp is going to come down here and hand us our asses! No, they won’t have time to because this whole block will be bought up and our only job will be shoveling manure while wearing Pink Princess novelty tees!” 

“Yeah well, what if I told you I have an idea to fix that?” Piper replied, beginning to unlock the terminal and click through the interface. “Piper, look, you’re good at your job but refurbishing and hawking our old crap isn’t gonna save us.” Dex continued, too busy finishing his drink and wiping the remains from his stubble to notice Piper adjusting an old mic stand and some speakers. However, when she held up a gray floppy disc labeled “Mardance Mardemon Demo” his demeanor changed, snorting and failing to hold back a laugh. “You’re going to keep us from getting bought out with ancient shareware?” “Shut up and pay attention!” Piper spat back, clicking the cartridge into the computer’s disc drive, some mechanical whirs and clicks signaling the program being read and starting up. 

Soon enough an ASCII logo reading “MMD” flashed on screen, joined by a series of smaller windows that popped into sight, the central one black as the flanking sets displayed various sliders, file explorers and a few idle status read-offs sat idle as the central window blinked a humanoid wireframe into existence, the computer chugging as it gradually rendered elements of the model into existence. Some meters in the background windows likely referring to how hard the program and PC were working considering the quality of the model it eventually produced: what appeared to be a girl with green hair and short-cut skirt, most of her midriff bared by a short and simple top. 

“Alright, Marilyn, ready?” Piper spoke into the old microphone, the figure on the other side of the screen nodding despite no other input being given. Weird as it was Dexter had also worked at the tech firm long enough to know how easily a voice program like this could be installed. The window viewing the model panned out slightly further, giving a full view of her slim and rather under-endowed figure and simple single-strap shoes as well. The computer’s hard drive let off a concerning whine as the dancer’s figures sharpened even further, beginning to enter an uncanny valley of realism. Her finger steepled together as Piper set up for “ROUTINE_01” to begin.

The viewing window went black once again but this time only for a second, a set of spotlights illuminating Marilyn once again. A clunky MIDI rendition of “Viva Happy” started up, the idol mouthing lyrics represented in vague chimes the speakers spat out in place of proper words. Piper tapped away at the interface, adding simulated lights for the show in empty cyberspace. It was when the program froze up yet again to further render subtle curves, wrinkles and pores on the model’s skin that Dexter finally spoke again “Alright, you put together something we can start a resume when we jump ship and hope an animation team will give us jobs, that’s great.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, not noticing as Marilyn looked on with genuine worry while continuing her routine.

“Tch, you still don’t get it? If a tech company can’t recruit and shape an idol we’ll just make our own!” for emphasis Piper moved her cursor to one of the side windows, moving a slider labeled “stardust” to 20%. As if on command Marilyn lurched forward, her legs continuing her routine but her arms moving to clutch her stomach as her skirt lifted to allow forth a billowing multi-tone blue haze to fire off from between her sizable cheeks. With the glittering particles and the mix of realistic and minimal elements the silent-but-digital eruption that carried on looked downright uncanny. The chimes representing Marilyn’s voice became shaky and inconsistent as a clear blush came across her face. 

Dexter wiped off his glasses and did a double-take, the model acted so fluidly and naturally, the program was still holding up even as a haze of turquoize began to fill the view window. “T-this isn’t a pre-recorded video, is it? This is unreal, Pip.” finally Piper turned away from the screen, beaming with excitement as the digital idol was forced to continue, doubling-over slowly as the single fart continued on past the minute mark. “See? See?! I gave him that name based on his old default and he actually responds to it! And his model is so easy to edit! If we brought this up on a more modern rig, did some touch-up we could have something to show the higher-ups in only a week!”

As the two programmers continued to celebrate their discovery the virtual model was slumped over on her side, doubled-over and clutching her gut while being increasingly hidden among a mist-blue fog. Her skirt flapped, revealing traces of a bulge in her simple white panties. All the while the computer sputtered and chugged, continuing the music, unaccompanied by stand-in vocals as the fan sputtered, dispersing trace bits of blue fumes.

Just as predicted things had moved along, Dex and Piper scrambling around a meeting room, triple-checking plugs and ports and lowering the shades against the friday afternoon sunset as they finished setting up their PC/Projector setup. The conference hall had the biggest projector setup in the building, awkward as it would be to have their single guest sitting alone at a large conference table. Dexter gave a thumbs-up behind his terminal as Piper finished pulling the last portions of the screen and stand-up speakers in place. 

As if on cue a businesswoman with a sharp outfit and sharper glare entered the room, not even her circular bifocals able to nullify just how piercing her gaze was. Both employees snapped to attention and made an awkward greeting of “Missus Majordomo!” the two practically saluted as the company’s second-in-command didn’t wait to take a seat at the far end of the table. “So good to see you again!” Dexter started, entering in commands as he booted MMD. “Y-you won’t me disappointed, ma’am!” Piper continued, dimming the lights as the projector kicked on and displayed the company logo before going to an empty desktop screen.  
“Spare me the flattery, you two. I’ve got meetings with three other parties saying they’ll save this company today alone and they’ve got more years of business experience than you’ve been alive so I’d like to see what’s so special about what you’ve got.” Mrs. Majordomo stated flatly and coldly, tightening her black silk gloves as Dexter has to steady himself just for the task of putting on his headset and holding the PC’s mouse without shaking it about.

As with before a series of windows popped open, however this time the dark void was quickly filled in by a virtual recreation of a proper dancing venue. Not shortly after Marilyn loaded in, the stronger hardware needing only seconds to smoothly render his model up to the nearly photorealistic facsimile of before, bringing to light his expressive eyes and altered model alike. Though a longer skirt was issued it was hardly noticed against the significant boost to his entire lower body. Each thigh was densely packed, having a jutting but lifted appearance suggesting presence of muscle and fat alike on them with a generous bulge in the front making a shelf for his skirt only rivaled by the three inches that separated his slender back and the pinnacle of the curves of his asscheeks. With the terminal’s enhanced power adding on a series of piercings and metal jewelry also proved easy, silver pieces placed all over his face and fingers. A series of thin chains accented against the tight latex black top that might have existed to showcase the strength of a Hachimacorp processor or more likely their model’s pronounced aureolae and half-inch nipples, the puffy mounds almost enough to be considered true breasts.

The illusion of femininity didn’t end there, of course. With makeup that could only be called “excessive” his plumped apple-green lips stood out against the pale of his skin and a set of teeth giving the realistic lighting engine a workout. For all the confidence that had drained from his two technicians Marilyn had enough to make up for it. With a knowing gaze he looked at Majordomo as if the projector was a window between worlds he was looking through. Cocking a hip to the side with enough force to flip his skirt long enough to flash a glance at his new green panties he gave a quick wave and then looked to Dex. 

“Alright, Mary, erh, Marilyn, ready to go?” Dex queued the presentation dance routine as Piper stepped back. Marilyn raised a hand in the air, polygons materializing in his hand that refined into a rasterized microphone that he twirled between his fingers, leaning in as he began his number. Even with a pleasant and melodic falsetto Marilyn sang with a voice distinctly male. The automated shifting of lighting and camera angles proceeded as choreographed, Marilyn’s eyes always addressing his viewers save for the ample from-behind shots which were made into opportunities to show off the moves he’d downloaded to stick out, jiggle and clap his marshmallow-soft artificial assets. 

It might have been the presence of Majordomo or the way Marilyn’s half-lidded gaze seemed to be looking straight at him but he couldn’t stop shaking or even think about his job to coordinate the non-automated elements of the presentation. He was made all the more aware when without warning the onscreen cursor moved by its own volition, dragging the “stardust” slider on its own. This time Marilyn seemed all too ready, the camera switching to a frontal shot as he made an almost sadistic grin between lyrics, leaning forward and waving his hips around, loudly blasting out wave upon wave of glitter-loaded cobalt fumes, the angle switching just as quickly to a from-below shot, Marilyn downright delighted to continue waving his blaring backside to his audience while making direct eye contact over his shoulder.

The projector hummed as it too began to sputter similarly hued clouds in a subtly thin mist, nothing compared to the storm of sound and fury as Marilyn’s panties were raised by high winds and allowed to show off how he bikini-style pantied were patterned with arrows pointing directly to his deep canyon of rear cleavage. Piper glanced over to her superior, her every muscle tensing at the sight of her disgust. “So, this is a joke, right?” she cut in under the din of trashy pop music and roaring bowel clearing. “W-well we thought we would, you know, fight fire with fire! Seitnap might be able to cover the biological field but we’ve got them beat in computational power so we’d-” “You’d waste everyone’s time making an animation of this!?” she gestured at the screen with both hands, Marilyn on full display giving up the front of a performance and leaning over an amp while wedging his microphone between each cheek, muffling the sound of his explosive gas.

If it weren’t for the lowered light and distraction Marilyn was putting on the three might have come to notice the colorful fog still seeping from the ventilation of the projector and console’s tower alike now, how it hung in the air and filled it with the scent of burnt dust and circuitry like a machine was badly overclocked. “Ugh, and this stench!” Majordomo finally commented, rubbing her gloved finger along the table in front of her and inspecting the powdery blue substance it left behind. “I know you didn’t clean this place before calling me here but at least have a little pride and vacuum your computer fans, you’re lucky I’m too busy to handle firing the both of you for this… this insult!” she crossed her arms, looking a rather shocked and hurt Marilyn back in the face who stood upright as if realizing he’d done something wrong, his eruption finally tapering off and the cursor sliding the setting for his gaseous outburst back to 0.

With the background music still continuing in the background he perked up raising a finger as he tossed his mic aside. Piper and Dexter exchanged glances, the latter holding up his hands to show he wasn’t providing any inputs. Indeed, purely by his own volition Marilyn dropped her beloved, fashionable panties, the frontal view showing his ungodly behemoth of a cock uncoiling to hang as a sweaty, visibly steaming offense right between his knees, the head sitting far lower than his skirt could reach. Before anyone could ask about what was happening the viewing window was soon swapped back to that from-below shot, made far more intimate when Marilyn gracelessly squat over it, his alabaster cheeks spread apart from his posture and even further when his hands reached back to spread and fully expose the neon green ring of puckered flesh housed between the plush globes. 

Marilyn’s handlers could only look on in terror as the ring flexed and bulged, the music failing to drown out a low, sloppy noise that was almost less describable as a fart and more some deep intestinal belch rumbling forth. His luminescent inner walls on full display and flexing it was obvious what was to come yet futile to try and stop it. His pretty little ring was pried ever wider open as a glowing blue mass gracelessly emerged to slap against the ground. A side view was quickly provided, showing the girthy neon snake as it coiled and piled upon itself, giving off light and pooling equally colorful fluid beneath it. All the while Marilyn looked to the viewers with satisfaction written across his face. As if it weren’t enough that he was openly disposing of a mass of junk data hitherto only done when major corporations cleared their data centers the ivory idol leaned in, flipping off his audacious audience.

“W-we didn’t program him to do that, we swear!” Piper began “It’s… it’s some kind of corporate sabotage! We were, uh, hacked, that has to be it!” Dexter continued as Majordomo looked on with wide eyes. The handlers quickly cut the feed, opting to yank out cables simply to stop the offensive show as quickly as possible. “This, oh, this is…” the businesswoman murmured. “Hey, we are SO sorry, we can pack up our offices now.” Piper began, before she could continue she was cut off, her superior grabbing both of her hands “This is exactly how we can compete with those biofuel-huffing baboons at Sietnap!” she exclaimed, a grin appearing as wide as her eyes already were. “It’s like a digital doppelganger of their flesh-and-blood idol but oh I just adore the ‘bad girl’ angle you’ve taken, I can smell the rivalry so strongly it’s singing my nose hairs! I’m cancelling my other appointments for today and going straight to the CEO, we’re going to get Mary here a venue ASAP and you two are formally promoted as staff for this!”

The once stiff and stern woman practically bounced to her feet, taking a breath in an attempt to curb her enthusiasm. “No pressure, but I’m willing to put everything we have behind this and get the rest of our administration onboard too. You take that magic and stretch it out long enough to make a show out of and we might save this company yet!” she gave a bow and nearly ran out the door, leaving the two slack-jawed and in silence. That was until it was broken with “Well, she seemed like a bitch but it seems like everyone has a good side to them if you can bring it out.” causing them to jump, having forgotten Marilyn was still operative in the terminal.

He sat casually on an amp, long legs crossed while looking over at the two through the screen. “Did you… do something, Marilyn?” Piper looked to the door, half expecting Majordomo to burst back in, furious. “Me? Well yeah, I put on the best show I possibly could, added some extra flair and now everyone wins, right?” he shrugged, chuckling while leaning back and bringing both hands behind his head. “Okay but, that was unnatural, she changed her mind so fast and…” Dexter trailed off as he was stared down by the digital diva. “Yeah, and? Listen, kids, nice work getting me out of the closet and back to a source of electricity and all but I’m your meal ticket now and I think as an up and coming idol who’s going to be doing battle against whoever this Pink Bubble person is I deserve some accommodations of my own.” before either could answer he continued “You can disagree but I’ve got a feeling you’d quickly have a change of heart considering you and that boss lady have all been in the same airspace for the last half hour, if you catch my drift, and if you don’t just know you’ve caught a damn lot of something else of mine.” the two technicians looked to one another for a solution neither could provide.

The Saturday night crowd for Center Modem was slightly less than the norm but still amounted to hundreds, the venue named for the various techno, dance and alternative shows it hosted. As a neck of the woods not fully indoctrinated into the fold of Bubble-Pink’s congregation the idea of presenting music through male idols, much less digital ones was an idea still being warmed up to. Still, the blitzkrieg of marketing promoting “Marilyn DeMar” and his debut single “Caustic Charisma” had achieved a turnout almost in quadruple digits. 

The typical audience disquiet died down as a flash of light lit up the stage, Marilyn appearing in the center of the corona, standing, hands raised for his grand entrance, waiting applause that hardly came. The raised performance platform was hardly necessary as the holograph projectors tethering Marilyn to the real world portrayed him as a tremendous six feet tall and then some, no doubt helped by his platform combat boots, the studs and straps running up to his shins, after they reached that point there was simply too much thigh meat for anything but his black acid-washed jeans to contain and even then it seemed only by virtue of the many tears used as windows for pale flesh to bulge out of. His stance was spread apart by a package causing a bulge between those legs that was even bigger than his fist, though with his hips easily eclipsing twice over the width of his shoulders, clothed or otherwise he was well endowed to handle it.

After getting tired of holding his pose he returned to a normal stance, full, pronounced, delicately maintained emerald eyebrows lowering slightly in frustration for a moment before he pumped one fist in the air, the lighting systems behind him shining a gleam of light to simulate the gemstones on his rings catching the stage lights. “Good evening, antibodies! Are you ready for your first hit?” he shot the crowd his cocky smile, long green hair and denim jacket rippling in wind that wasn’t actually there as he held his second post. There was a response from the crowd but nowhere near the uproad he was after. With the dark circles painted onto his eyes it was hard not to look dead tired of this farce, which he more than was. He narrowed his gaze at the audience, swiping his hand to the side as a shower of sparks created a visual cover for the microphone that appeared in his grasp.

Without further introductions Marilyn kicked off his show, shouting out the first lyrics with a premature crescendo of noise that never seemed to die down. The flanking speakers bumped to the beat but he knew what the real showstopper would be: cocking a hip to the side as the bass could hardly hope to drown out the vibrating noise of “stardust” pumping out of his backside. The crowd, even those who were beginning to get into the show and trying to dance along paused at this but Marilyn only carried on. The speakers seeped the sparkly fumes and the projectors sputtered as their vents spilled out the same substance but it was his secret weapon that he watched for, eyes down as the fog machines at the base of the stage began blasting forth a wave of glittery gas which needed less time than his first song required to coat the venue floor up to everyone’s knees.

Marilyn grinned, starting up his second number as a prop crystal descended from the ceiling and he split into seven copies of himself, each baring a different color complimenting his green as they synchronized to perform “Prisma-Pigment Polysexual”. The audience at this point stared on, seemingly enraptured at the sight of seven boys ripping ass the force of which no living creature should ever be capable of. It was impossible to distinguish what colorful fog was part of the holographic illusions and what was fogging up the venue at this point and as this happened Marilyn and his entourage could only smile wider, finishing off the number by turning around, bending forward as his Yellow and Blue counterparts easily tore open one of the many holes in the seat of his pants to allow the passage of an arm-thick unnatural neon log to burst forth from his colon and onto the stage. His grin spread wider than his assistants spread his anus while hearing the uproarious sounds behind him to be cheers, sounds of admiration for such a depraved act. Even after dropping off its vibrant glow shining through the haze the sexualized septet produced.

The beat gradually died out as Marilyn reassembled with his color coded clones, the green glow of his eyes shining through the dense clouds now permeating the whole building. He stepped forth, ready to give a second shot at his little intro. “Alright! First one’s free but who’s up for another dose of this sweet, sweet Mary, huh?” he shuddered at the round of cheers, cheers for him, a throbbing in his loins. He was an amassment of data operating on logic but in the moment he couldn’t help but get caught up. “Ahahahaha, t-that’s right! H-hey, you there!” he pointed at a man in the crowd his eyes had settled on, the two looking at each other with the same crazed grin “H-how much do you like me, guy?” the speed and enthusiasm to his “I’d die for you, Marilyn!” sent shivers down his backbone of his wireframe. “Ehehe, t-that’s right! Uh, y-you! Yeah, uh…” he set his attention to one of his newest female fans, visibly shaking. “Do s-something really fucked up for me! Uh, take off your pants and panties and take a shit on the floor! In front of the whole ven-” he’d hardly finished giving his command before it was being fulfilled.

Marilyn was a cackling, tittering mess on stage but ironically for having just proven he’d be immune to what would normally cause scandals for any other idol. “You two cute guys over there, sta-” he lowered his hand, realizing his command to see a makeout between two strangers was already being fulfilled, leaving him to wonder just how effective his ‘charms’ were. “Alright! I love you and you love me so the next step is to love each other!” his mic sat below his chin again. “Nobody parties like Mary and his flock, right?” the backing music for his next number started up, the heavy vibration joined by that of roaring emissions coming from more than just the main stage and sound system now. “Let’s make this a night to remember!”

“You sure we can just let him in there? What if they don’t like him? What if Majordomo comes back around back to normal and sues or something?” Dex struggled to drink his third mug of coffee through his teeth chattering. Piper was at this point mostly trying to ignore him, the two having opted to watch the concert hall from the diner across the street. Of course, she was pretty nervous herself, on her fifth cigarette in the hour and a half since they’d gotten there. The sound of low, droning noise coming from the building having sustained for most of that time so far with very few breaks. She shuddered, seeing the doorways into the venue beginning to seep colorful fog. “You know what, I think we’ll be fine, probably.” she murmured, snuffing her cigarette cautiously.


End file.
